The Improbable Reunion
by alienteacup
Summary: Superwholock - On the 15th May, 2013 The T.A.R.D.I.S materialises in a sparse wasteland in Nervada, USA, a few metres away from a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala. The Doctor, with Clara alongside, has a reunion to put into motion after an unexpected encounter in London - time is of the essence as he, Clara, Sam and Dean do their best to reunite the impossible man and the army doctor.


**The Im**_**probable **_**reunion **

May 15th 2013 - Earth Time

"That emperor loved you…I mean I'm not sure I understood everything he said, but that goodbye kiss spoke volumes." Clara closed the door behind her.  
"Oh yes, we go way back, well…backwards and forwards." The Doctor straightened his bowtie, seemingly out of habit and Clara rolled her eyes as the T.A.R.D.I.S jumped into life with a swift jerk.  
"Home?" Clara asked cheerfully and The Doctor replied "Off you pop then, same time next we-"  
Cut off mid-sentence a loud echoing knock interrupted him. Two slow knocks on the T.A.R.D.I.S door. Clara's eyes met the Doctor's, and then they both looked towards the door.  
"But that's - someone's knocking! But how is someone knocking though? We just landed, right?"  
"Yes…but it can't be…the perception filter!" He seemed exasperated, and Clara noticed that The Doctor had a habit of defining things as fool proof and exact, when really they seemed to regularly fall apart and challenge his definition of impossible. _What's to say impossible really exists?_ thought Clara as she grew amused at how impossible had a habit of becoming increasingly possible in the world of The Doctor and his T.A.R.D.I.S. The irony of it, after all they had been through last month, still hung in the air with a bittersweet feeling. Suddenly, two more loud knocks came from outside and interrupted Clara's thoughts. The Doctor raised his eyebrows and slowly looked towards the door once more. A mingled expression of confusion, excitement and slight fear seemed to flicker over his face as he slowly took one serious and quiet step towards the door. Then he turned back, his jacket twirling dramatically around him. The serious look on his face quickly vanished, replaced with a look of pure childish glee. He excitedly grabbed Clara's hand, pulling her towards the door.

Sunlight suddenly filled the T.A.R.D.I.S as Clara pulled open the door. There stood a tall man, dressed in dark clothing with dark hair and extraordinarily bright eyes. Sherlock Holmes stood there expectantly, with slight look of annoyance. Suddenly he started ranting "I have been popping up all over London for days, Doctor - just trying to find you."  
" But - you can't - you can't just find me Sherlock!" Flustered and confused, The Doctor spluttered and began to slowly walk around Sherlock. He pointed his sonic screwdriver at his chest and circled him. Sherlock seemed unfazed, and Clara took this moment to introduce herself. "Urm…hey. I'm Clara." "Sherlock Holmes", he replied simply as he shook her hand slightly awkwardly as The Doctor continued to walk around him and examine Sherlock with a puzzled expression.  
"But it's…"  
"Don't say impossible." Sherlock muttered with a slightly arrogant and fed up tone.  
"But this is impossible."  
"I am standing right in front of you alive and well, it clearly isn't impossible. Honestly, I expected better reasoning from you of all people Doctor!"

A little hurt, The Doctor reasoned "I've had a shock…extenuating circumstances."  
After a few moments of stony glances between The Doctor and Sherlock, Clara broke the awkward tension, feeling rather bemused by the whole situation "So, a little out of the loop over here. Someone want to explain."  
"He shouldn't be here." The Doctor resolutely stuck to that, adding "it shouldn't be possible."  
"You know you say that a lot right? Impossible." Clara joked looking at The Doctor, and Sherlock rolled his eyes, half amused in agreement. Perhaps feeling it was too soon for Clara to be joking about impossible things, he moved the conversation on hurriedly.  
"John." He said simply, because right now it seemed the only thing of importance, with Sherlock stood before him. He remembered his friends grieving for Sherlock this past year, John had fallen apart and he himself had disappeared - which he felt very guilty about. After years of the five of them, Sherlock and John, and Sam and Dean, and The Doctor teaming up and working together every now and then, all contact had just stopped.

The Doctor met John Winchester whilst travelling around America, and inadvertently became involved in a case he was working not long after Mary had died. There was an unusual ghost-related turned alien-related case, and they joined forces after a chance meeting. Since then, he popped in now and then during John's life, helped out on the occasional case and even kept Sam company a few times when John took Dean out hunting. Then, in 2010 The Doctor met Sherlock Holmes and John Watson while sitting in a London café. He overheard them arguing.  
"It's obvious, isn't it?"  
"No. No it isn't - what?"  
Sherlock answered, barely looking up from his phone "The cleaner did it. She's -"  
"Sleeping with the bank manager" interrupted The Doctor from the table behind, turning around smugly to speak to them "obviously."  
A reluctant yet prosperous team suddenly formed, and they solved the bank robbery in record time. Then John would occasionally call in The Doctor for reinforcement, rarely asking for Sherlock's permission. A weird routine emerged. Sam and Dean called The Doctor and he headed to America, he called Sherlock and John and they helped via the phone - John blogged - Sam and Dean Kicked ass. The Doctor moved on. And on it went, all of them occasionally getting help from these unexpected sources.

"Doctor -"  
"No, Sherlock. You need to tell John right now. And Sam and Dean."  
Clara was taken aback slightly by The Doctor's stern tone  
"It isn't that simple."

"Simple? You died, apparently, now you're here - impossible, and yet you are here. They grieved, Sherlock." Sherlock opened his mouth to interrupt but The Doctor carried on. "It has been over a year. John fell apart and…and I couldn't help. Dean and Sam called one day for help with a case - they didn't know, and were met with a monotonous and cold toned John."  
Sherlock's cool exterior seemed to falter for a second as he and The Doctor shared a look that seemed to require no words. "None of us have spoken since" finished The Doctor.  
"I don't und -"  
"Understand?" The Doctor's voice rose suddenly and angrily and he moved aggressively towards Sherlock. "Understand this Sherlock. John, Sam and Dean all need to know."  
He stared into Sherlock's eyes for a few more moments, an intense silence filling the space between them. "Especially John" The Doctor added before he backed off, straightened his tie and smoothed his jacket. Suddenly they both seemed aware of their surroundings. Clara was leant casually against the T.A.R.D.I.S door, looking ever so slightly bemused but otherwise completely unfazed by the strange conversation that had just come to an end. Sherlock sighed.  
"Alright - yes OK. John…OK." He still seemed distracted. "But Doctor - something else - urgent."  
After a moment of silence, The Doctor simply said "Oh" as if something had just clicked into place in his mind. Clara looked from one to another; there seemed to have just been some non-verbal discussion between them, within a simply glance. Silence, then The Doctor turned to Clara.  
"Clara, if you wanted people to think you were dead, what is the last thing you would do?"  
"Er…Oh!" Realisation fell upon her and she turned to Sherlock slowly and said "You looked for him. You looked…you found. Why? Why would he do that, Doctor? Like you say, he clearly wants to remain…well, dead."  
"Yes, why exactly, Sherlock?"  
"Because -" Sherlock began  
"He needs you." Clara finished.  
"You need me?"  
"I need you." Agreed Sherlock, and even as he said it he seemed frustrated at having to put it into such emotionally heavy words.  
Exchanging uncertain looks, the three of them stood for a few moments before The Doctor gestured for them to head into the T.A.R.D.I.S. Sherlock glanced around briefly, with Clara looking on expectantly. Disappointed, she concluded that Sherlock must have been here before - she had been looking forward to the reaction. Sherlock took off his coat and swiftly placed it on a hook in a smooth fashion that suggested he had done it a million times before.

"I've been keeping a low profile, Doctor."  
"Well, to keep hidden from me is certainly an achievement. I look of course, to begin with - but other searches…" he tailed off and looked briefly towards Clara "well, other things to look for took over. It has been over a year."

Sherlock seemed to have picked up on the look The Doctor gave Clara and wondered how much he had missed since last year. "Doctor, I -"  
"What's going on, Sherlock?" said The Doctor, finally cutting to the chase.  
After a moment where he seemed to be weighing up his choices, Sherlock began - "America. We need the Winchesters." Taken aback, The Doctor pondered the look on Sherlock's face. He could vaguely make out a look which could suggest he was worried, but wasn't it so hard to tell with Sherlock? Could he possibly look flustered, and almost worried? Small beads of sweat were appearing on his temple, and The Doctor swore Sherlock sounded almost like he was pleading as he repeated "America, Doctor. Please."  
Suddenly, The Doctor turned serious and began talking quickly, staring intently into Sherlock's eyes. "I am not a mode of transport to just whip you away where you please. You've been gone, and people deserve an explanation. Clara here and I have plans."  
"Actually" Clara interjected, "I was just about to head home for a few days. We've kind of been on the run and things got carried away and…things happened." She paused, and seemed lost in thought before she continued "But maybe things are just about to get interesting here."  
"Why? Give me one good reason why, Sherlock?" Demanded The Doctor.  
Sherlock seemed to physically be pulling himself together for a moment and took a deep breath.  
"Aliens. Monsters. Humans. Serial killers. Demons. Possibly all of the above."  
Eyebrows furrowed, The Doctor was looking at Sherlock and seemed to be trying to decide something. He looked confused rather than shocked, and acknowledged how weird it was for Sherlock to be validating aliens and demons and all things non-human.  
"Well, that sounds like several good reasons to me, Doctor." Clara happily added, confused yet intrigued into this weird turn of events. The Doctor seemed to be weighing things in his mind, thinking things over. He walked slowly, in a way which seemed measured and thought out, and he circled to the other side of the console. Gradually, as if he was still making his mind up even as he did it, he picked up the telephone. Pausing momentarily, he sighed and said "I will make the call."

The familiar sound and blue aura of light appeared in a cloud of dust as the T.A.R.D.I.S set down in a dusty waste land somewhere in Nervada, U.S. Sam and Dean exchanged a brief look and couldn't help but smile as the air suddenly became still and silent once more.  
"He we go…" Sam said "wonder what madness he's got for us, after all this time." Supressing their grins of excitement, and trying to regain their cool, hardened façade, they turned and waited for a sign of movement. Suddenly, the door swung open quickly, in a sharp yet fluid motion. A figure slowly emerged, in a slightly hesitant way. A tall man, wearing all black came into view before them. As they took the sight in, they saw skinny long legs and a tight black shirt, followed by the annoyingly familiar face of Sherlock Holmes. They were expecting The Doctor, who they noticed had followed Sherlock out, and now seemed to shrink and sneak into the background silently, holding hands with a pretty girl neither of them knew. Shocked, there was a sudden knee-jerk reaction from both. Sam hit Sherlock so hard that it was a surprise to see Sherlock still standing as if he was expecting it. At the exact same moment, Dean habitually drew his gun from his belt.  
Quickly, before Sherlock could say anything, Sam splashed holy water across Sherlock's face, with a look of hopeful expectation. Sherlock barely reacted, and simply shook his head slightly.  
"It's no use guys, I have done all the tests."  
"You? You used holy water, salt, silver and all that?" Asked Dean, as if this was the most preposterous thing he had heard in a long time.  
Rolling his eyes, The Doctor replied "Of course not. Proper tests."  
"Oh. You did your silly sonic thing" Dean sighed in a way that suggested whilst he found it very amusing, the very suggestion of the silly sonic thing seemed offensive to him. Clara spluttered and tried not to laugh as a very strange version of a typical guys and their toys conversation played out in front of her.  
"Well if you don't mind, Doc - we're gonna do this properly." Dean huffed in an exasperated way, as Sam went to the Impala to get a few things. He had always had a problem with alien things - to him it always boiled down to supernatural sons of bitches, plain and simple. Sherlock and The Doctor exchanged looks of polite amusement at the indignation on Dean's face.  
As Sam and Dean proceeded to do every Supernatural test known to them, Dean fully noticed for the first time the extremely attractive girl leaning comfortably against the T.A.R.D.I.S and watching on in a way which could almost fool you into thinking this was a scene she witnessed every day. They'd forgotten how life with The Doctor, or with them, made you accept and embrace even the strangest of situations. He pondered for a moment if this was a good or a bad thing - but once again, Clara had his attention. With a slightly arrogant and very cheeky grin, he looked at her and said "Hey, I'm Dean and this is my little brother Sam."  
"Clara." she replied, apparently more amused than bewitched by his intended charm.  
"Hey" he said again, with an ever growing smile, as he let his eyes slowly travel down then back up her body.  
"Don't." The Doctor said to Dean once again, and they both had a flash back to old times at the sound of that one word.  
"What, can't I even say hello now?"  
"Dean - really? Now?" Sam half laughed, as the last hope or possibility that it wasn't Sherlock vanished, "More importantly - this is Sherlock."  
"Great, now we've agreed that -" The Doctor began, but Sherlock interjected curtly, looking at Sam and Dean, "You'd think, as two guys who die all the time, you would be a little less shocked."  
Clara for once reacted in slight surprise and looked confused by this aspect of the conversation, but stood by in silent fascination and let the lads continue their silly argument.  
"Never mind that…sorry." Dean awkwardly apologised and Sam added "You can never be too careful - I think I've lost count of how many times we've had to do that to each other."  
"They did it to me once too, after I regenerated" added The Doctor, looking satisfied that the conversation was moving on.  
Dean continued - "as I was saying, never mind all that now, what the hell is going on?" he glanced around, as if suddenly realising what was missing, "and where is John?"  
An awkward silence settled over their group, and for a while the only sound was a nearby road and the softly howling wind.  
"Wait - he doesn't know, does he?!" Sam looked angry and directed the question as if he were interrogating Sherlock.  
"I need…your help. There's something going on, in a quiet village in Surrey. It seems like…our sort of thing."  
"We don't care. Not right now. We're all heading to London, to see John. Now."  
"Deans right, you're being a coward right now - that's not you. And John deserves the truth."  
The Doctor nodded in agreement. Sherlock looked from Sam, to Dean and then finally met The Doctor's eyes and saw judgement there he had never seen directed at him before.  
Finally, he nodded silently in a resigned and defeated manner.  
A few short minutes later, the T.A.R.D.I.S appeared in London, and Sherlock hesitantly pushed the door open. Sherlock seemed rooted to the spot, standing right on the threshold. The Doctor firmly placed a hand on his shoulder, and pushed him out of the door. Sherlock stood on Baker Street, suddenly surrounded by familiarity and many memories. A few steps forward and Sherlock stood in front of the familiar black door. Suddenly, the street, building, even the numbers and door knob, all seemed to carry him forwards, and the hesitation following him around since he found The T.A.R.D.I.S earlier that day evaporated. He rang the bell for the upstairs flat and stood back slightly, feeling strange to not be walking in as he used to. After a few moments, a silhouette could be seen coming down the dimly lit stairs. The door opened. John stood there, in a rough beige jumper and jeans. He looked like he hadn't slept properly in weeks and there were a few stains on his clothes. Sherlock noticed that despite a few discrepancies, he looked well-fed and his demeanour seemed more to blame for this unkempt appearance - Sherlock considered that Mrs Hudson was to thank, she would probably think it silly to let John go about looking homeless. He wasn't sure if she had succeeded or not, John's appearance seemed to be a confliction between neglect on his part, and care on her's. Sherlock concluded there was now one more reason he needed to be grateful for Mrs Hudson.

The door fully open, their eyes finally met for the first time in over a year.

"Hello, John."

20 MINUTES


End file.
